The Moon Asked the Crow
by Lila2
Summary: When Tyler turns, Caroline is with him every step of the way.
1. Before

**Title: **"The Moon Asked the Crow"

**Author:** Lila

**Rating:** PG-13

**Character/Pairing:** Tyler, Tyler/Caroline

**Spoiler:** "By the Light of the Moon"

**Length:** Part I of V

**Summary:** When Tyler turns, Caroline is with him every step of the way.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, just borrowing them for a few paragraphs

**Author's Note:** All I have to say is: Tyler/Caroline own me. This is why. Originally a one-shot piece, but like most of my work, it got away from itself. Title courtesy of CocoRosie. Enjoy

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* * *

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**I. **_**Before**_

There's fire in his blood.

He can feel it, lurking under his skin, curling around the edges of his veins and coating his insides in molten hot.

His skin prickles, itches from underneath, and the heat pulses through him with every day closer to the turn of the moon.

His skin burns and his cheeks are flushed and sometimes, right around midnight, he swears his eyes turn to liquid gold.

He stops looking in the mirror sometime during the second week.

* * *

His body is changing too.

His arms are stronger, his muscles bigger, and there's new strength in his chest. He's thankful for baggy jerseys and the cold streak streaking through Virginia.

He won't wear t-shirts even as his skin burns.

* * *

Coach Mitchell calls him in for a conference a week after Sarah dies.

The guy is always talking about "educating the entire athlete" and telling them there's no "I" in team, but Tyler still likes him. He's nicer than Coach Tanner, smarter too, and he manages to work through the high school bullshit so they actually win games.

"Tyler, I'm worried about you," he starts. "Your body…I don't want you doing anything to hurt yourself, son. If you're taking something, you can tell me. There won't be a consequence. We'll just get you the help you need."

It takes everything in Tyler not to laugh. He wishes it was drugs, steroids, even those herbal supplements pros are always pretending they aren't downing by the dozen.

He wishes it was anything but the truth.

He stares Coach Mitchell right in the eye and pulls out his ultimate trump card. "I'm not on anything, I swear, it's just that since my dad…working out makes it easier, you know?

Coach's face falls and his eyes fill with compassion but Tyler doesn't even blink.

His life has always been about lies and half-truths. There's too much on the line for things to change now.

* * *

He can't sleep.

He closes his eyes and all he sees is Sarah's face that night, her slack jaw and lifeless eyes, and the spear of lightning that shot through him as the life left her and the curse claimed him.

He remembers the awkward sprawl of her body and the fall of her hair and the way Caroline made it all go away.

He tries to listen to her, hears her voice in his ear as exhaustion claws at his eyelids but sleep refuses to come.

It doesn't matter that Caroline says it wasn't his fault. It doesn't matter that he didn't know his own strength. It doesn't matter that he'll pay every full moon for the rest of his life.

All that matters is that where there used to be a living, breathing girl is a broken body and he was the one to deal the final blow.

* * *

He pushes people away.

He avoids the team, sits alone in class, turns down the girls who offer him a shoulder to cry on. Dead dad, dead Sarah…it all makes for a golden opportunity in their eyes.

His mother senses the change even if she can't put it into words. She talks less, but hovers more, and one night she touches him, once, brushes his hair from his brow as he bends over his chemistry homework, and pulls her hand back like she's been burned.

His body burns at over a hundred degrees; she has every reason to be concerned.

"Tyler, honey, you're burning up," she exclaims and lays a cool palm on the heated skin of his forehead. "Are you coming down with something?"

He makes a feeble excuse about drinking tea right before she came into the room and she doesn't believe him, but she doesn't press either. She already lost one Lockwood; she's not willing to push another away.

He ducks his head and lowers his eyes so he doesn't have to see the pain in hers. Despite his efforts, he can't avoid the way something tightens in his chest.

He doesn't let her touch him again.

* * *

He can't leave Caroline alone.

There's a buzzing in his ears when she's near and he can't concentrate.

His mind goes blank and all he wants to do is lay his hands on her, skin to skin, feel her soft and cool while he burns and burns.

He remembers that night, Matt's voice in his ears and Caroline's giggle lodging under his skin, and he remembers wanting things to work out for his friend while his feet dragged him to the door against his own accord.

Awkward is a good way to describe the entire scene.

The next morning Caroline sidles up to him at his locker and her voice is soft but the meaning is crystal clear.

"Tyler, what the hell was that?" she hisses. "I know we've been getting close these past weeks, but we're just friends. You know that, right?"

She's wrong. They might not be the next Matt and Elena, but she's not his friend. He searches for a way to put his feelings into words, that he needs her to get through the day because it's too much to face what's coming on his own.

"Did you know that wolves mate for life?" he says and it's possibly the dorkiest sentence to ever leave his mouth but it doesn't make the sentiment any less true.

He can't stay away from her and he doesn't want anyone else.

* * *

He keeps waiting for the day she tells him she can't do this anymore.

It doesn't matter that it happens every morning. He's always surprised when he shows up at school and she's still there.

* * *

He lets her in.

She comes to him at lunch and plops down across from him without saying hello.

"You look terrible," she says but doesn't touch him, just picks at a bag of potato chips and watches him. "You haven't been sleeping."

He shrugs, rolls an apple between his hands, anything to keep from looking at her; he can't focus when he's looking at something that pretty. "I have a lot on my mind," he says and hopes she'll go away even though it's the last thing he wants.

She's the only person he can talk to about this stuff. He wants her with him all the time.

"I know you think your life is over, but it's not." He makes the mistake of looking at her and the apple falls from his hands as he wonders when she got to be so damn beautiful.

Her voice drops along with her eyes. "I didn't get to give up, Tyler," she says. "I take it one day at a time. All I'm asking is for you to do the same."

She doesn't touch him because everything that needs to be said is clear in her eyes.

"I'm here," they say. "You're not alone."

He smiles for the first time since his life stopped being his own.

* * *

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	2. During

**Title: **"The Moon Asked the Crow"

**Author:** Lila

**Rating:** PG-13

**Character/Pairing:** Tyler, Tyler/Caroline

**Spoiler:** "By the Light of the Moon"

**Length:** Part II of V

**Summary: **When Tyler turns, Caroline is with him every step of the way

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, just borrowing them for a few paragraphs

**Author's Note: **Thank you to everyone supporting this fic. Apologies that this part is so short, but it didn't seem right to write for the sake of writing. Enjoy.

* * *

**II.**_** During**_

His life becomes a series of befores and afters: before his dad died, after he killed a girl. Before he knew the truth, after he saw what was coming.

He stops dreaming of what he did to Sarah and begins dreaming of what her death will do to him.

* * *

It takes three different trips to three different hardware stores before he finds chains strong enough to support five thousand pounds of regret.

They're heavy in his hands and drag him down, but nothing is heavier than the weight resting on his heart.

Even when he doesn't close his eyes, Sarah's lifeless gaze stares back at him.

He's the one who did this. He has no one to blame but himself.

* * *

He stakes out the slaves' quarters.

_Slaves'_ quarters.

His mom brushed his family's past aside with an embarrassed expression, _"We don't talk about those kind of rooms,"_ she'd said softly, eyes downcast and her tone begging him to change the subject.

He'd let it drop, not because he'd wanted to avoid a history lesson about the old South, but because he already knew the moral of the story.

His people built a fortune on the backs of others.

Slaves to King Cotton, servants of the moon.

It wouldn't be atonement if it didn't come with a curse of its own.

* * *

He thinks watching Mason transform on video makes it real.

He watches his uncle's body contort and hears his cries fill his ears, but he's used to the magic of movies.

Nothing is real until he lives through his bones breaking and his insides splitting and the only screams echoing off the walls are his own.

* * *

He knows Caroline is there.

He knows because it's obvious, because he actually turns into a wolf and he can literally smell her there, but it's more than that.

He hears her voice and can feel her hands on his skin, cool where he feels like he's going to burn himself into ash.

She wraps herself around him with too much strength for a girl so small, and holds his broken body together.

He can't pass out, but he can block it out, and he concentrates on her, the soothing tone of her voice and the smooth feel of her hands on his skin. He somehow makes it through.

He wakes up, dirty and naked and bruised inside and out, and she's there again, whispering into his hair with breathless speech.

"You're okay," she says softly and he chokes back a sob as he disagrees.

"No, I'm not," he says and isn't embarrassed as tears leak from his eyes and smear the dirt staining his cheeks because she's the only reason he survived this at all.

She held his soul together too.

* * *

Writers live for feedback – please leave some if you have the time.


	3. After

**Title: **"The Moon Asked the Crow"

**Author:** Lila

**Rating:** PG-13

**Character/Pairing:** Tyler, Tyler/Caroline

**Spoiler:** "By the Light of the Moon"

**Length:** Part III of V

**Summary:** When Tyler turns, Caroline is with him every step of the way.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, just borrowing them for a few paragraphs

**Author's Note:** Thank you for the continued support. I'm having a lot more fun writing this fic than anything I've worked on in long time. Enjoy.

* * *

**III. **_**After**_

It becomes harder to remember his old life.

He goes to school and he plays football and preps for basketball, hangs out at the Grille and takes out the trash for his mom, but it he can't take any of it seriously when he knows what's coming four weeks down the line.

"How do you do it?" he asks Caroline a couple days later. He's pretending to do his chemistry homework and Caroline is working diligently on an English essay and Matt's glaring at them over a tub of dishes, but all they're doing is studying. Bro code aside, technically, he isn't doing anything wrong.

If Caroline feels that death stare too, she doesn't say a word, and she doesn't ask for clarification. Instead, she puts down her pen and stares into his eyes, cool and blue even in the weak light, and won't let go of his gaze. "I might be a vampire, but I'm still me. Self-pity never got me anywhere before. I'm not starting now. You're Tyler Lockwood," she reminds him. "You don't get to start feeling sorry for yourself because you got dealt a bad hand." Her voice drops and her eyes get watery but she doesn't break their stare. "I didn't want this either, but I don't have a lot of choice. I have a lot of life ahead of me. It's easier when I enjoy it."

He suddenly feels very small, even though he's like three times her size and could bench press twice her weight, and he's the one to look away as he ducks his head so she won't see his cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I guess I have been pretty annoying the past few weeks."

It takes her a moment to answer and he takes her silence as confirmation. "You've been scared and it's understandable, but it's your life. Don't let anyone else tell you how to live it."

He glances back into her eyes. The tears are gone and blue steel is the only way he can accurately describe what's lurking there. "Okay," he says, because she's kind of scary when she looks like that, and he's seen her heft 5,000 pound chains. She could knock some sense into him the old-fashioned way. "I get it."

She's the one to smile this time and it makes her so pretty, beautiful really, that he knows he'll do whatever she says without protest. "Give me the video," she says.

"No way."

She holds out a hand he knows could literally rip his leg from its socket to get to the flashdrive and shakes her head. "I won't let you torture yourself with it any longer. Give it to me."

He can't do it. It's stupid, he knows, idiotic really, to keep watching his living nightmare in real time, but he can't look away. He can't forget. He killed a girl, ruined a family. He deserves to suffer. "No."

"Take it from someone who knows," she starts. "It doesn't get better until you make it better." She smiles again and this time it lingers on her face and he knows he won't be able to say no. "I'll help."

He pulls the flashdrive out of his pocket and slides it across the table. Their fingers brush, cool against hot, and he feels calmer already. "I'm in your hands," he says, too much truth wrapped around his words, and she smiles, shy this time, and puts the flashdrive out of reach.

"Out of sight, out of mind," she says brightly and orders milkshakes from a passing waiter. "Trust me on this," she assures him. "Chocolate makes everything better."

She's been right all along so he doesn't push and doesn't protest, just sips his chocolate milkshake and wonders what she'd look like without all those layers of clothes. For a moment, just one passing moment, he gets to fall back three months into the past.

It's not anything close to normal, but at least it's a start.

* * *

He deletes Mason's video from his computer and hides the wolfsbane in the back of his sock drawer, Caroline's voice repeating like a broken record in his head: _It gets better, it gets better, it gets better…_

He can't quite forget what will happen in a few weeks time but each day goes by a little easier.

* * *

They set the chains early for round two.

They're still absurdly heavy but she's absurdly strong, and he knows she's humoring him when she "helps" him lift them into place.

He doesn't complain though; he likes that he doesn't have to do this alone.

He glances at her, on her knees in the dirt, working the chain through a bolt and testing it with that insane strength of hers to see if it holds.

It does. There won't be any mistakes this time.

She has trouble with the next one, not because she isn't strong enough, but because she isn't doing it right. She pulls and pulls and the bolt strains but the chain doesn't budge an inch.

"Let me," he says and kneels beside her. Her thigh slides against his, cooling him down through two layers of denim. It suddenly gets very hard to breathe.

He makes the mistake of glancing at her and she's so close he should be able to feel her breath brush his cheeks. She's so close he can see every freckle standing out against her otherwise pale cheeks and he can see the darker rim of her irises and the way she's trying so hard to keep her mouth from trembling.

He could kiss her. He _should_ kiss her. If his life belonged to a normal teenager he would kiss her. At this moment, all he wants in life is to kiss her.

He doesn't kiss her.

He doesn't know what he feels for her, if it's lust or love or so much need that his body burns with how much he relies on her.

She's the only person he can talk to about this, the curse that's become his prison, and he can't risk ruining it. No matter how pink and wet her mouth looks or how he swears her eyes are darkening as they stare into his.

"It just takes the right touch," he says to break the silence and she nods in understanding, but his voice sounds funny and there are so many double meanings in that one sentence that his body would be on fire if it wasn't already burning.

They don't talk after that but the room feels crowded from the force of everything he's left unsaid.

* * *

He thinks about kissing her all the time.

He knows better.

He settles for talking to her instead.

He feels like a twelve-year-old girl but listening to her voice soothe him into a dreamless sleep is better than nothing at all.

* * *

His dad is dead four months before they get around to reading the will. His mom keeps delaying the appointment, and he's the one to convince her to stop putting off the inevitable.

"He's gone, Mom," he says. "He's not coming back." Her face crumbles and her eyes fill with tears, but he doesn't back down even as he slides his arm around her and holds her for all the times she's held him.

Sarah's face flashes through his vision; he flexes a wrist recently gifted with moon-tinged agility. He knows how permanent death can be.

* * *

Nothing all that surprising happens. He's gifted with more money and an old watch but none of it makes any difference. Even his dad's millions can't buy him a new future.

The day is overcast and he spends most of the afternoon watching the clouds drift across the surface of the sun. Vampires are slaves to its rays, but Caroline has a ring that lets live her life as if she wasn't already dead.

There's no get out of jail free card for him. The hours pass and the day inches closer to night and he's closer than ever to losing control.

He's one month down, a lifetime more to go.

* * *

He goes to bed early, exhausted from dealing with his mom and dealing with his dead dad and dealing with his cursed genes, but when he goes upstairs there's a girl in his room beside a pile of broken glass.

All he sees is a flash of blonde hair and a glint of blue eyes and then she's wrapped around him like a vise. The pressure of her arms makes it hard to breathe, but he doesn't push her away. Sarah is still dead and his dad is still gone, but he breathes in deep, the scent of her hair and her skin filling him, and it seems easier.

She pulls back first but keeps his face cupped in her hands. "You didn't show up at school today," she says. "I thought…"

He reaches up to wrap his hands in hers. His hands are still bigger even if hers are stronger and she twines her fingers through his. "Everything's fine. We went to the reading of my dad's will."

"Oh, Tyler," she says and he feels guilty for the first time in months because she's talking about his dead dad and all he can focus on is the sound of his name on her lips. "How did it go?"

"I got some money," he says. "His watch and my mom's diamond. Nothing that actually matters." His eyes get heavy and he feels like he might cry. For all his flaws, he really does miss his dad. He wants to look away, avoid and evade, but he can't. Not when she's this close. Not when he can actually feel her against him.

"You're allowed to care," she whispers and moves even closer, almost like she's slipping inside him. He can feel ever chill inch of her against his blazing heat. "He's still your dad and he's still dead. It's okay if it hurts."

He's never been one for talking about his feelings, but he also can't keep things from her. The words come pouring out even when he doesn't want them to. "This is all his fault," he says. "Even if he didn't know, I'm this way because of him. I don't care about money. I want my life back."

"This is your life now," she says and tightens her fingers around his in a grip so taut it makes him gasp. "This is my life now. We're going to get through it together."

It's the exact wrong moment but he still thinks about kissing her.

He doesn't because he can't risk losing her.

Control has never been one of his strong suits, but he's getting better at reading social cues and he breaks the tension between them instead. He shifts his gaze to his broken window. "You know, I do have a front door."

The trick works and she laughs, her smile making her impossibly pretty, even if it can't quite hide the hint of fear in her voice. "I thought you were dead today. When you didn't show up for school…don't scare me like that, okay?"

"I'm not going anywhere," he promises her because it's a promise he can keep.

He doesn't know what his future has in store, but he can clearly see the lifetime of full moons waiting for him.

He sees her with him every step of the way.

* * *

She leaves gifts in this locker.

Yoga poses, breathing exercises, even a few fingers of scotch in a shampoo bottle.

She doesn't tell him what they're for but he can read her as well as he reads himself.

A new life means a new normal and she's helping him find his.

* * *

Matt gets a clue and a few days later their friendship turns into a Mexican standoff being held before first period.

"So, you and Caroline," Matt starts, head ducked and his eyes focused on his shoes because he might be QB1 but since Elena, he's never had much luck with girls. "Are you like a thing now?"

He wants to say yes because he wants it to be true, but he looks once in his best friend's eyes and he can't do it. Matt has always looked a bit like a lost puppy, but never more than in this moment. He lost his dad, but Matt lost Vicki and lost Elena and never really had a mom. He can't take another person from him.

"Nah, man," he says and it hurts almost as much as his arm splintering while still attached to his shoulder. He got through that; he can get through this too. "We're just friends."

Relief washes over Matt's face and Tyler wishes seeing his friend so happy didn't hurt so much. "I really like her," het says. "I liked her before, but there's something different about her now. I can't believe I ever broke up with her."

Tyler can't believe he's letting her go without a fight.

* * *

Jeremy Gilbert gets caught up in his business the way he always does; even when some things change, some are guaranteed to stay the same.

Duke from Duke comes home for the holidays and has another party.

He spends most of it watching Caroline watch Matt.

His vision isn't as good as hers, but it's clear enough to see that she's wearing a green sweater that makes her eyes look huge and her mouth redder than usual and he still wants nothing more than to kiss her until forever.

He wonders if she'll taste coppery and metallic or sugary sweet. He wonders if she'll taste like the person she killed or if she's filtered out the after effects of his death the way he's fought to erase Sarah's dead gaze from his memories.

He doesn't care what she tastes like – he just wants to know.

He's standing at the edge of copse of woods, fifteen or so feet from where Bonnie and Caroline are whispering furiously while Matt and some new kid get them drinks. He contemplates wandering over, just to say hi, but can't seem to make his feet move. He isn't sure of what to say or what to do, and even though he can survive every bone in his body shattering within a suit of his own skin, he can't bear her rejecting him.

"Rough deal," someone says beside his right ear but he doesn't have to turn to know the voice belongs to Jeremy Gilbert. He can smell him, but it's more than that; apparently muscle memory applies to more than varsity sports.

He keeps staring at Caroline and tries his best not to hit him. "Fuck off, Gilbert."

The kid has never been good at knowing his place and he doesn't budge an inch. "All I know is that I've been in your position before."

"Yeah, what's that?" He takes a sip of beer and pretends to be fascinated by a tree to the girls' left. It still has all its leaves, dripping gold and blood in the moonlight, and if not for Caroline, it might be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. He can't take his eyes from either of them.

"Wanting a girl who doesn't want you back."

This time Jeremy's words hit too close to home and Tyler's grateful he's currently crushing his solo cup with one fist, because he'd choke on his beer if he were drinking it. He might be a loser stoner, but Jeremy Gilbert has always had a way of cutting right to the bone.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You sure?" Jeremy asks and Tyler makes the mistake of glancing at him. There's a knowing smile on his face, and Tyler again resists the urge to punch him. Vicki is dead and buried. He wants to keep it that way.

"Don't make this about her," he says, throws some menace in his voice. He beat the hell out of the kid for over a year; he doesn't need his super strength to fall into familiar patterns.

"I loved her," Jeremy says softly. "A lot more than you did. In the end she wanted me, but all that time she wanted you."

"She chose you in the end. That's the part that counts," he says and concedes a point. A year ago, the truth might have stung, but he buried his feelings for Vicki when she was laid in the ground. There isn't room in his heart for all the dead girls. "

"This isn't about Vicki," Jeremy clarifies. "You don't have to like me, but I've been in your shoes. I know how it feels."

He doesn't think Jeremy knows how he feels, how he burns beyond the temperature of his skin. He's never wanted anything as much as he wants Caroline, but nothing hurts more than seeing her with someone else; he's someone who knows the definition of pain.

"So what do you?" he asks through clenched teeth because the guy has been something close to a friend this year but he's still _Jeremy Gilbert_.

"If you wait long enough, she'll come around."

"That's it? That's your epic advice? Just wait."

"Yeah," Jeremy says. "Just wait." He's watching the girls too and Tyler actually feels his fist balling at his hip before he realizes Jeremy isn't staring at Caroline. The boys are back but Bonnie is glancing over her shoulder, feeling Jeremy's eyes on her, and even from this distance he can see the blush staining her cheeks.

Bonnie smiles at something the new kids says and he doesn't have to look at Jeremy to know exactly what he's feeling because he's feeling it too. If it wasn't Matt at her side, he thinks he would plant a right hook right between his rival's eyes.

"I can't watch this anymore," Jeremy says and turns his cup upside down. A month ago, Tyler would have wanted to pound the kid for wasting good beer, but he's barely touched his own. It's laughable to think he can drink his problems away. "Elena keeps begging me to slow down, but she hasn't exactly said quit," Jeremy continues and slides a joint from his jacket pocket. "You in?"

He glances back at Caroline, Matt's arm slung around the curve of her waist, and realizes even he has a limit for self-torture. "Yeah," he says and drops his cup in the dirt, crushes it beneath one sneaker. "That sounds great."

He glances back once before they disappear into the woods.

Matt is at her side and he's saying something she should be laughing at, but she isn't listening because she's staring right at him.

* * *

Matt tries to date Caroline again and he can't pretend that he doesn't care.

He tries to feel guilty, because technically, he's the one encroaching on his friend's territory, but he can't bring himself to actually feel the feelings.

He knows things about her Matt will never know, never begin to comprehend, and if he didn't have bigger problems he'd be worried his life is turning into a Taylor Swift song.

He remembers that night, the way she laid herself bare before him, her soul at least, and he can't forget the look in her eyes when she told him something she'd never told anyone before, _"I killed somebody."_

Her words were small, soft and terrified, but her eyes told a different story. They let him know she was letting him in because he'd be the only one to understand.

He sees her and Matt and something tightens in his chest and he knows better.

The moon is a sliver in the sky but he knows what's waiting for him in three weeks time.

Even without a curse, life isn't fair.

* * *

She chooses for him.

In one moment his mom is telling him there's someone to see him and the next there's a girl in his lap, legs wrapped tight around his waist with strength that never fails to surprise him.

It should freak him out that there's no breath brushing against his cheeks but all he can think about is the feeling of her lips on his. It's even better than he thought it would be.

He doesn't want to break the moment but he has to ask because he has to understand. He pulls back, threads his fingers through her hair, and manages to tear his mouth from hers. "Caroline?" is all he can say.

"I'm not that girl," she says in response and drops her head to his shoulder, presses her face into the curve of his neck, all that coolness calming the fever raging underneath his skin. "For so long, all I wanted was for Matt to love me, but he can't love someone who isn't there."

It hurts, almost as much as the moment his first bone broke and his body wouldn't let him pass out from the pain, but he wraps his arms tighter around her and doesn't let go. She's done so much for him. It's his turn to be there for her.

"I see you," he says. "Whoever you were before, it doesn't matter, because I see who you are now." He gently cups her cheeks and raises her mouth to his. "I kind of like you too."

She laughs against his mouth and her lips part; he slips his tongue inside. He pulls her tighter against him and when she moans it sounds better than it ever has in his head. "I see you too," she says and her voice is a little breathless even though he knows her lungs haven't worked in months. "That was the problem all along."

He kisses her again and hopes it goes on forever.

* * *

Nothing much happens but she doesn't leave either and when he climbs into bed she's right there with him. She's wearing one of his t-shirts and when she kisses him goodnight with his scent on her skin, he knows nothing that happens in his head will never match this moment.

She curls behind him in his bed, one hand splayed across the curve of his waist.

Her heartbeat lulls him to sleep.

* * *

Writers live for feedback – please leave some if you have the time.


	4. Changes

**Title: **"The Moon Asked the Crow"

**Author:** Lila

**Rating:** PG-13

**Character/Pairing:** Tyler, Tyler/Caroline

**Spoiler:** "By the Light of the Moon"

**Length:** Part IV of V

**Summary: **When Tyler turns, Caroline is with him every step of the way.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, just borrowing them for a few paragraphs

**Author's Note:** Thank you for the continued support. I'm so glad people are enjoying the fic. Hope everyone had a happy holidays; happy new year! Enjoy

**

* * *

**

The next morning she's gone.

There's a note, but it's not enough. When he turned into a living nightmare, she never left his side. He can't believe she isn't here this morning.

His bed is cold and his room is empty. It hurts more than it probably should, because he's only had her _that_ way for about twelve hours and he already misses her.

He glances at the pillow and there's a dent where her head rested through the night and he can smell her on his sheets. It's probably the first time he's been grateful for the changes the transformation forced on his body.

He can't help it. She's gone and he wants her near, and he feels a bit like his childhood dog when he falls face forward into navy flannel and breathes her in.

He could start every day this way.

* * *

He finds her at her locker.

There are a million people around and about three minutes before the first bell, and he has to take deep breaths to keep his head on straight. He's furious but she's beautiful, and he's having trouble concentrating. There are too many people, too many sounds and smells, but when he focuses on the way the light turns her hair the color of the sun, his feet move towards her involuntarily.

She's turning the combination of her lock and he comes up behind her, drops his mouth to right above her ear. "Where were you?"

She doesn't flinch but her hands do still on the lock. He realizes she knew he was coming all along. Some of the anger slips away; it's kind of hot the way she always has the upper hand.

"I had to get home, Tyler. I had homework to finish, a meeting for the Winter Formal…" she trails off and turns to face him. She looks annoyed, especially when her eyes track down his chest to the fists balled at his thighs. "I left a note."

"Not the same," he says. "I woke up and you were gone."

"Did you think I wasn't coming back?" she asks and the irritation is gone from her face. Now she looks sad and he starts to hate himself a little bit, because he's sick of people pitying him and he can't stand making her upset.

"I thought…" he starts and takes a step forward. She takes a step back until she's flush against the lockers and her breasts are pressed hard against his chest.

Her hands are curled against his shoulders and she could throw him across the hallway if she feels he's invading her space, but she doesn't. She just looks into his eyes and waits. "What did you think?"

He can't put into words how he felt, scared and alone and stupid for believing she'd actually chosen him, but he can show her. He presses two fingers to her chin and tips her mouth to meet his. He thinks she might protest, because they're in the middle of the hallway and surrounded by gossips at every turn, but she surprises him by twining her fingers through his hair and opening her mouth.

He really, really wishes he'd chosen to have this conversation anywhere but at school.

She pulls back but keeps one hand on his cheek. Her fingers are strong and firm and she forces his eyes to meet hers. "I'm not going anywhere," she says softly, so softly he doesn't think he'd be able to hear her before he turned. "I need you to trust me if this is going to work."

He wants to let this drop, to take her word and move on, but he needs to be honest more. He can't risk the bottom falling out of his world again. "Last night, you were reacting," he says. "I wasn't sure it would last."

She kisses him, soft and sweet, just the barest brush over lips over his, and smiles against his mouth. "Well, today I'm choosing," she says and something eases in his chest.

He smiles back as the bell finally rings and they pull apart. It's Tuesday and they have chemistry first period. "Walk you to class?" he says and she laughs as she shuts her locker and hefts her bag over her shoulder.

The walk isn't far, but her hand slips into his as they head towards the classroom.

They don't have to say anything because sometimes actions speak louder than words.

* * *

No one in Mystic Falls has anything to talk about except what other people are doing.

When he gets home, he can tell from the expression on his mother's face that she's already heard the news.

"Caroline Forbes?" she says over dinner and she's smiling like she always has, but there's a sparkle in her eyes that's been missing since his dad died. "She's a really great girl, honey."

It takes a moment to respond, to remember that it's real and she didn't run back to Matt the next morning, but he can't help the smile he feels parting his lips. "Yeah, she's cool," he says because he might like her more than he's letting on but he's still having this conversation with his _mom_. The less he says the better.

She reaches over and lays her hand over the fingers of his left hand. She doesn't flinch even as she feels the burn of his skin. "I'm happy for you. It's good to see you smiling again." It's more than his father said to him in all the years of his life.

He nods and they turn back to their chicken marsala. She keeps her hand on his throughout the rest of the meal.

He doesn't push her away.

* * *

He transforms again.

The chains hold and he chokes down the entire bottle of wolfsbane-spiked water, but he still wishes he were dead as every bone in his body breaks while he's still alive.

She stays longer, holds tighter, and whispers words of encouragement as his spine splits and realigns while he's wrapped in her arms.

"You're going to be okay," she says against the sweaty skin of his temple and her lips replace her words. He closes his eyes as they press feather light against his skin. "You're going to be okay," she continues, cool fingers stroking circles over the splintering length of his arms.

He tries to concentrate on the feeling of her hands on his skin and the soothing tone of her voice, but it hurts too much to focus on anything but the pain coursing through every vein and artery in his body. "Caroline," he manages to choke out. "You need to go."

She doesn't hesitate and she's gone before he can blink; he wants to miss her but he's too far gone to really notice.

He does notice that she's there when he wakes, his head cradled in her lap and her fingers smoothing his hair down over his forehead. For a moment, all he can do is stare at her because he survived the worst night of his life for the second time and seeing her face is the most amazing feeling he's ever felt.

"See?" she says with a smile. "Mason wasn't lying when he said it gets easier every time."

He smiles wearily, closes his eyes and relaxes into her. He's too exhausted to say anything, but his mind still works and his smile widens as it grasps the truth.

It was only easier because she was there with him.

* * *

They're at the Grille again and Matt isn't working so they have relative peace while pretending to do their homework. Or maybe Caroline is doing her homework but he's mostly staring at her and wondering how long he has to work on his trig before he can kiss her again.

"What?" she asks and her cheeks are flushed and he smirks a little because she's Caroline Forbes and nothing much phases her but he did that to her. "Did my pen explode?"

She has a pen clasped between her lips and there are deep grooves sliced into the cap from the sharp points of her teeth. He knows what she is, but he's never really thought about what it means to be a vampire. He kind of wants to know. His life goes on as normal when the moon isn't full but hers hasn't been the same since the moment she turned.

"What was it like?" he asks. He clarifies when a line forms between her eyes. "You know, turning." Her eyes widen and she scans the room, but no one is listening. Plus, they're talking so softly that no one but another vampire could hear them and she swears she's the only one. "Come on," he encourages. "Tell me."

"Tyler," she says. "I saw every bone in your body break the other night. Nothing I went through compares to what you did."

He doesn't want to play a game of "my transformation was worse than your transformation," but he can't help the words that come out next. "Not true. You did it alone."

She stares for a minute, puts down the pen and leans even closer. "You really want to know?"

"Yeah, I want to know."

She smiles and twin fangs of pearly white slip over her bottom lip. "I thought my jaw was going to crack. They have to come down but it takes thirty seconds instead of ten years. My gums ached, my head too. I didn't know I couldn't go into sunlight then. I thought I was going to die but I couldn't because I was already dead."

"Jesus."

"It's over, Tyler. I don't have to go through it again." She turns back to her work and makes it clear that the conversation is over.

He lets it go but makes a promise to himself: he can't change the past but the future will be better because they'll get through it together.

* * *

It takes a few more days for Matt to say something.

It happens on the basketball court, where all their conversations seem to take place, and Matt spends the first part of it with his eyes trained on his shoes.

Tyler can't come up with a way to open the floor either. He spent half his childhood in Matt's house and now he has nothing to say to him.

He knows people are looking, haven't stopped looking since he pushed Caroline against a bank of lockers and kissed her senseless, but they also know the history between Matt and Caroline and the story just got good. He ignores the stares and whispered comments and makes the first move. "Hey man," he starts. "How've you been?" He knows his words are lame, but he's not sure what else to say.

Matt jerks his head up and Tyler's tempted to take a step back. In all the years he's known his friend, he can't remember him angry, and now he's glaring at him with fire in his eyes. Tyler blinks, just to make sure there isn't liquid gold staring back at him. There isn't. He's forgotten what it means to get mad the old-fashioned way.

"Cut the bullshit, Tyler," Matt says. "I've been shitty." He crosses his arms over his chest. "Friends don't go after other friend's girls."

Tyler knows he was wrong but not in the way Matt thinks. Caroline had ended things before she turned up in his bed; the only mistake he made was keeping his mouth shut. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you," he says and means it. He is sorry for hurting his friend, but not enough to regret what happened.

"You knew I liked her."

"I like her too." Tyler says the words quietly, but Matt's head snaps up and some of the anger disappears from his eyes. _Elena, Elena, Elena _floats between them, the years he spent listening to Matt drone on about whatever girl was breaking his heart; until Caroline, he never once mentioned anyone of his own.

"She's different, isn't she?" Matt asks and the anger is completely gone from his eyes. Now he just looks sad.

He still can't put into words how he feels about Caroline but he can nod and cast his own eyes to the ground so Matt won't see right through him. He's not ready for anyone but her to see inside his head. "Yeah," he says softly. "She's different."

"You should be with her," Matt says after a long moment. He looks defeated and like he might cry, but he holds his head high. "I just want her to be happy, even if it's with you."

"Matt…"

"Look, man, I'll step aside, but I need some space. You…we can't be friends for a while."

He can't remember a time in his life where Matt wasn't a part of it but now they're strangers. It doesn't sit right with him. He already lost his dad, his body, and his future. He can't stand the thought of losing something else.

He blinks back the tears he pretends he isn't on the verge of shedding. He should be used to losing the things he loves.

* * *

It isn't all about him.

They're at her locker and he's staring at her butt as she picks up a fallen book when her head suddenly snaps up and dark, thick veins press against the pale skin of her cheeks.

He glances across the hallway where Abby Reynolds is alternately sucking on her finger and cursing about a papercut, and he glances back at Caroline. Her eyes are wide and terrified and it's like looking into a mirror. He realizes how she must have felt the same way all those times she held him together. It's time he does the same.

"It's okay," he croons as he angles himself before her, rests his forearms to the wall on either side of her head and leans down to press his forehead to hers. "Deep breaths, Caroline," he whispers. "Just breathe."

She doesn't really breathe but she goes through the motions. Her chest is flush against his and he breathes in deep and eases out big gulps of air, and eventually she follows suit. She raises her eyes to his and her face is the one he remembers.

"I can't believe you saw me like that." Her voice sounds tiny and weak and nothing like the Caroline he's come to know. He hates it. A lot. He wants it to go away.

"You've seen me turn into a wolf," he reminds her. "Doesn't get more embarrassing than that."

"We're at school." She looks left and right but the show is over and no one's really watching them anymore. "If someone had seen me…"

"No one did. Don't you get it?" he asks her. "Sometimes, I get to save you."

"I'm used to doing things on my own," she says and there's still shyness in her eyes but her voice is getting stronger.

His hands slide down her arms to rest on her hips and he pulls her towards him, so she can feel his heartbeat pulsing in time with hers. He stares into her face and it's the one he feels like he can't live without. "You can count on me, Caroline," he says and stares into her eyes while he says it so she knows it's true.

He realizes he'd do anything for her. It doesn't scare him nearly as much as it should.

* * *

"You don't think I'm ugly?" Caroline says about a week after the hallway incident.

She's determined to learn how to control herself in the presence of blood and she's currently sitting cross-legged on his bed and doing some sort of yoga breathing while he repeatedly cuts his finger and watches it heal.

It's weird, the way that thin line of red disappears within seconds, but it's weirder when those dark veins appear under her skin and her eyes are ringed with red. She isn't ugly, just different, and that face is part of the deal. He knew what he was getting into when he chose to date a vampire.

"You're beautiful," he says because she is beautiful; he's seen inside her to know her beauty doesn't run skin deep.

She laughs and throws a pillow at him. "You're just saying that so you can get some later."

He doesn't throw the pillow back. He presses her into the mattress instead. She's on her back beneath him and her hair is spread across his pillow and she rests one hand on his shoulder while the other winds through his hair and he regrets keeping the pillow because he's having trouble concentrating and has something important to say. "I don't care what you are," he says. "I care about who you. I know who you are, Caroline. That's the person I want."

Her hand stills and her grip in his hair tightens, holds him in place so he has to look in her eyes. "Would you have gone out with me before I turned?"

He can't look away and he can't lie either, and not because her fingers have a death grip in his hair. She's always honest with him; he needs to do the same. "No," he says and reaches down to grip her chin when she tries to look away. The words are harsh, but she opened this can of worms. "You were different then. It wouldn't have worked."

"Are you going out with me because I'm helping you?" she asks and it's that same voice from the hallway, scared and weak and needy. He hated needy Caroline. He won't let her go back there.

"You were different then," he tells her. "I'm not going out with you because you saved me. I'm going out with you because you're the strongest person I've ever met. Lots of girls are smart and beautiful. None of them can do what you can do."

There's a goofy smile on her face and his chest tightens from how good it makes him feel. These days, there are few things he likes more than making her happy.

"Matt never said anything like that to me," she says and her eyes go wide because it's an unspoken rule that his former friend is not an open topic of conversation.

He could make it an issue, but she's already chosen him. He won't turn into that guy. "Matt never knew you the way I do."

She looks like she wants to say something but she kisses him instead, soft, warm lips parting beneath his. He wants to ask what she meant to say, but can't focus on anything except the scent of her skin and the way she moans his name.

His dad is still dead and he still killed a girl and in three weeks time he'll be chained up while his body breaks and he begs for death, but right now, none of it really matters.

In this moment, being with this girl is all he's ever wanted.

* * *

He has this fantasy that replays over and over in his head. The details aren't clear, but it involves Caroline and his bed and she isn't wearing any clothes.

So one night when he heads to bed and finds Caroline in his room, he wonders if the fantasy is becoming a reality. She's wearing a short, silky green dress and her hair is all crazy around her face and it's only when he's close enough to touch her that he sees the tear tracks on her cheeks.

He isn't used to seeing her like this. They got through the jealousy and the doubt, but she was always her usual strong, determined girl during those moments. He can't remember ever having seen her cry.

He gently slides his thumbs down her cheeks and rubs the tears away. Her eyes slide closed and tears glisten on her lashes in the moonlight. If he wasn't so worried, he'd be stunned by how beautiful she still looks.

"Caroline? What's going on?"

The tears keep coming and she collapses against him, soaking his t-shirt. She's saying something but most of it is muffled by his shoulder. He concentrates hard and he can make out, "She's going to die."

"Shhh, shhh," he whispers as he wraps his arms around her and presses her against his chest. He wracks his brain for who she's talking about: Bonnie? Elena? The former is kind of a loner and the latter always has the Salvatore brothers trailing after her. It can't be either of them. "Caroline, you need to calm down so you can tell me what's wrong."

His words come out harsher than he meant, but he's frustrated. He hates seeing her upset; he hates it more that he can't make it better.

"It's my mom's birthday," she finally says and her voice is shaky. He's still weirded out seeing her like this. "It's my mom, so she barely noticed, but I did." She pauses and fresh tears fall down her cheeks. "She's going to keep getting older, Tyler, but I never am."

He hasn't given much thought to Caroline living forever. He knows, of course, because he's seen _B__lade_ like a million times and had to sit through _Twilight_ last year to get into Stacy Thompson's pants, but it's never really sunk in.

He looks at Caroline, her smooth skin and bright eyes, and it hits him: she'll wear this face forever. She's Caroline, so she's probably stoked that she'll never get fat and her hair will always be blonde, but she'll also watch everyone she loves die. She'll watch him die.

And he thought he had the harder curse to bear.

"That sucks," he says and it's probably not the right thing to say, but now isn't a time to sugarcoat his feelings. Caroline is going to outlive everyone she'll ever know. He can't lie their way out of that. "But you're going to get through it." She shakes her head but he nods and forces reassurance into his voice. "Yes, you are. You told me that I couldn't give up. I'm not letting you give up either."

"But my mom – "

"Yeah, she's going to die, but not for a long time," he says. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

He knows he's fudging the truth, because Caroline will still be here long after he's gone, but he refuses to remove himself from the picture. She's the reason he's gotten this far; he won't leave her behind now.

"You make it sounds so easy."

"It's not, but it's not so hard when we take it one day at a time. Remember?"

"Okay," she says. "I'll try." Her cheeks are wet and she looks exhausted and he just wants to make it all go away.

"Stay," he says and takes her hand to lead her to his bed. Her cheeks flush as he unzips the dress and slides it down her body. She's wearing a matching set in pale pink and his fingers still at her hips for a moment. That fantasy is still alive and well in his head, but he knows it's too much for tonight. He forces himself to help her slip out of the dress and turns his back as she sheds her bra and pulls one of his t-shirts over her head. The last time they did this, she changed in the bathroom. It takes every bit of restraint he has to keep from watching her get naked in his bedroom.

He curls behind her in his bed and wraps her in his arms, so her back is tight against his chest, and he can just feel the curve of her breasts against his hands. He sucks in a deep breath but doesn't move. This feels too good even if it's torture all the same.

"We're not like normal teenagers, are we?" she asks and he laughs against her neck and holds her tighter.

"We're a werewolf and a vampire," he points out. "Nothing about us is normal."

One of her hands snakes out and squeezes his. "We'll be okay, right?"

She can move faster than a speeding bullet and move trees without breaking a sweat; he turns into an actual wolf every full moon. The odds aren't really on their side, but he has to believe they'll be just fine. "Yeah, we'll be okay."

He falls asleep with her cradled in his arms. So much of the time she's the stronger one. He likes having her this way, small and fragile while he keeps her safe.

He doesn't think of the future. He counts the beats of her heart instead.

* * *

There are few things he hates more than being stuffed into a monkey suit, but there is nothing he likes more than seeing a smile on Caroline's face.

He tells himself the sacrifice is worth it as his mother straightens his tie and smoothes down his hair. She won't stop fussing over him and he mostly lets her. He likes seeing her smile too.

The Winter Formal falls on the Thursday before Christmas and Caroline is the chair, which means she has to get there early and he can skip taking awkward pictures in her silent house while her mom looks like she wants to be anywhere but with her own child.

His mom keeps cooing over him and he keeps the smile on his face.

It's annoying but at least she cares about him.

* * *

The dance is…the dance is a dance but he tells Caroline it's the best one yet. She probably knows he couldn't care less, but she plays along and when she smiles it's so bright it almost hurts his eyes.

She's wearing a red dress that hugs her curves but still leaves a lot to the imagination and he glares around the room as half the football team tries to undress her with their eyes. His fingers tighten at her waist and she leans her head on his shoulder, but her tone isn't casual. "They can look, but I'm here with you. My mom does pay attention every now and then. I'm tired of explaining away bruises."

He relaxes his fingers but keeps up the glare. He trusts her, but he wants his message to be clear: the prettiest, coolest girl in the school chose _him_.

The moon reminds him every day as it inches closer to cresting: winning doesn't come naturally.

* * *

He spends a lot of the night with Jeremy.

They discuss school and their art and skirt around werewolf talk. He knows Jeremy knows, but he's not ready to acknowledge it. Not yet. So he keeps most of the conversation focused on Caroline.

"You were right," he says as he tracks her with his eyes. She's talking to Bonnie and Elena and telling some story requires her to wave her arms around. She looks like a moron, but he finds it adorable. So much has changed in just a few months. "I gave it a few weeks and when she was ready, I was there."

Jeremy kind of nods, because Bonnie is wearing a shade of pale purple that makes her skin gleam and he can't take his eyes off her. "Told you so."

"So thanks," Tyler continues. "I owe you one."

The song changes and the girls break apart. Elena disappears into the crowd, but Bonnie and Caroline head towards them. Bonnie looks a little embarrassed as she slips into Jeremy's arms, but the kid's cocky grin says it all. Tyler tips his head in congratulations as he wraps an arm around Caroline's waist and leads her onto the dance floor.

"Thank you," she says but he shakes his head because he didn't do anything but put on a monkey suit and not punch anyone in the face. "Tonight, I can feel like I did before..." She trails off but he knows exactly what she's talking about.

He holds her tight, so his lips brush against her temple, and he hums along to the song as they sway to the music. It feels good to dance with her like this, to be with her like this, without worrying about veins popping out of her cheeks or him killing someone while dressed up like a wolf.

"_So I won't hesitate, no more, no more  
It cannot wait, I'm sure  
There's no need to complicate  
Our time is short  
This is our fate  
I'm yours"_

He doesn't know how long this will last or where they're heading, but for one night they can be normal teenagers without the weight of the world on their shoulders.

* * *

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